


all i did was wonder

by godsensei



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dancing, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, heavy kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godsensei/pseuds/godsensei
Summary: “Hey,” he says, hovering hesitantly as the song tapers off. Shiro startles, turning to him.“Hey,” he replies softly, face instantly turning into something warm and open. “Sorry, did I wake you?”“Nah, I’ve been awake for a while. Was going to make myself something to eat,” Lance points his thumb in the general direction of the kitchen, “Heard the music, though. If there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s music.”





	all i did was wonder

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Shance Support Squad's unofficial zine (called 'Kiss Me')! I've never been in a zine before, so it was really nice to participate. I'm so proud of everyone who worked on this zine and helped each other out. It is FREE to download, so be sure to pop on over to [download it](https://shancesupportsquad.tumblr.com/post/175158124177/it-is-our-pleasure-to-finally-bring-kiss-me-an)!
> 
> My prompt was "a kiss based on a song", and I chose 'It Could Happen to You' by Frank Sinatra, though the Frankie Valli song 'Can't Take My Eyes Off of You' gave a lot of inspiration as well.

Lance misses _home_.

 

He misses his family with every breath he takes, is reminded of them in every world he visits, in all the trinkets he collects for them and the food he tastes without them. Suddenly being stuck in space with a small group of people has not been an easy adjustment for him, considering how big his family is— how communal everything they do is. Doubt plagues him more often than not, without their support, even though he loves everyone here just as fiercely.

 

The flip side is that he’s experiencing things that no one else besides the other Paladins ever will. No one in his family will ever speed through a wormhole created by a princess of an alien race. They won’t play in the rain with a makeshift family, laughing until their sides hurt. They won’t ever know what it feels like to be in the heat of battle, the whole universe depending on them. He misses his family— but part of him understands that he  _should_ let it go. Part of him reasons that he most likely won’t make it out of this alive. Even if he does, he knows, in the deepest part of him, he’ll be too changed to ever fit in exactly the way he did before. Some part of him will always yearn for this, now that he’s felt this way, exactly the way he yearns to see his family.

 

But... he’s making the most of it, even when he has his doubts, even when he misses his family so much he has to lock himself in his room to cry it out. He has a family here, too.

 

Tonight, though, he’s had his cry and now… he’s starving. Crying takes it out of him, makes him feel wrung out and exhausted. His plan is to go to the kitchen, grab some food, and go to _sleep_.

 

He makes his way as quietly as possible out of his room and down the hall. The castle is quiet, for the most part, despite the steady noise of the engine. It’s faded to background noise a long time ago for Lance, probably for all of them, lulling them into sleep when things too vivid plague their thoughts.

 

What he doesn’t expect is to hear familiar music streaming from an observation room. It doesn’t really echo like Lance thought it might, but it’s enough to pull him to the door, opening it quietly.

 

His eyebrows lift in surprise, seeing Shiro standing there, watching the stars float by. His shoulders are tense, a contrast to the calm, old school music he’s streaming. It sounds like Frank Sinatra, something his father would put on when he wanted to make his mother laugh and blush. Lance smiles at the memory of all his siblings hiding behind the corner, watching his parents dance around the living room until his auntie had dragged them away, chiding them for spying.

 

It had been romantic to Lance, that his father offered his mother a hand even after all their time together, kissed her knuckles, and pulled her close. It was like they were young all over again, something electric sparking between them. Lance had often danced around his own room with an imaginary partner, secretly hoping he’d have a love, one day, as great as his parents’.  

 

He closes the door behind him, stepping closer.

 

To be honest, he doesn’t get much time with Shiro, despite… despite what Lance thinks of him. He’s seen Shiro sleepy and dead-eyed in the morning, witnessed him mid-panic, ptsd-flashback, watched him join in on petty food fights between the paladins, seen him throw himself into the fight without a second thought and Lance, well… Lance still thinks he’s pretty amazing. He’d looked up to Shiro at the Garrison, but, if anything, all these secret things about Shiro only make Lance think _more_ of him. It makes him want to be _around_ him more, a thrill dancing all the way to his toes when it’s just the two of them, when Shiro’s eyes are on him and him alone.

  
  
Still, at the beginning of their journey, Shiro had spent most of his time alone, or conversing with Allura, or Pidge, or Keith. The two of them didn’t get much time to chat, normally. It’s been nice becoming a bit closer with him lately. Maybe it’s because Keith isn’t here, or Pidge is always with Matt, or Allura and Lotor are too engrossed with one another to spare Shiro the time. Even if he’s the last person Shiro might seek out, Lance is grateful for the opportunity to get to know Shiro better, to get to know him personally.

 

“Hey,” he says, hovering hesitantly as the song tapers off. Shiro startles, turning to him.

 

“Hey,” he replies softly, face instantly turning into something warm and open. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

 

“Nah, I’ve been awake for a while. Was going to make myself something to eat,” Lance points his thumb in the general direction of the kitchen, “Heard the music, though. If there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s music.”

 

Shiro lets out a short laugh, crossing his arms as he leans back against the edge of a control station, looking back out at the stars. “If I’m being honest, neither can I. I used to play music at the Garrison, drove my roommate crazy. Said I couldn’t pick a genre and it was driving him insane.”

 

Lance laughs. “Hunk said the same thing. Said my mp3 was the _worst_ thing to study to.”

 

“He’s probably right,” Shiro teases, and Lance feels his face warming. He never knows what to do when Shiro gives him individual attention like this, doesn’t know how to parse what he feels at all. “It’s a good thing, though, if you’re well-versed in many different genres.”

 

“My parents were into a lot of different music, and I guess that influenced me too,” Lance says, rubbing the back of his own neck. He looks out at the stars as well, and feels that vague sense of dissociation that comes over him when he remembers this is his real life. He’s really out here in space, fighting a war that Earth isn’t even aware of yet.

 

“You okay?” Shiro asks. Lance doesn’t look over at him, but he can feel Shiro’s gaze on the side of his face.

 

“Do you ever…” Lance pauses, unsure of how to phrase the question. “Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the things that happened… didn’t happen?”

 

“You mean, if I never got taken by the Galra?”

 

Lance winces. He didn’t mean for it to sound like that.

 

“It’s okay, Lance,” Shiro placates him, “I’ve come to terms with the fact that maybe my life was never meant to be normal.”

 

Lance glances over at him, at the stars reflecting in his dark eyes, at the lost look on his face.

 

“Even from an early age, I knew that I was meant to be out here. I just… never knew in what capacity.” Shiro chuckles at the irony.

 

“You were always meant to be something _great_ ,” Lance corrects and Shiro blinks over at him in surprise. He swallows nervously, clearing his throat before continuing. “At the Garrison… I really looked up to you. You inspired me to keep reaching for what I wanted. I never got to thank you for that.” Lance feels his face flushing again, embarrassed at admitting this to Shiro.

 

“I… didn’t know you felt that way,” Shiro says, his own face looking particularly pink.

 

“That’s why I think you were always meant to be great! Leader of Voltron— Defender of the Universe!” Lance exclaims, talking with his hands. He sobers up quickly, looking down at the floor. “You’ve been through so much, but you keep getting back up, every time, simply because you know it’s the right thing to do.”

 

“Where is this coming from?” Shiro asks with a confused laugh, sounding overwhelmed and humble.

 

“I guess I just wanted you to know,” Lance admits. “Even though bad things happened to you, you’re still… worth something great.”

 

Shiro smiles again, something warm and intimate that makes Lance’s heart flip.

 

“You always seem to know what to say to lighten a burden,” Shiro admits quietly. He lifts his Galran hand, turning it back and forth, gazing at it. “To answer your question from before, I think it would’ve happened anyway. If they hadn’t taken me, we still would’ve been called by the Lions. It’s good, though, that it did happen the way it did. We need the Blade and my connection with Ulaz helped with that. Could’ve done without the torture, though.”

 

Lance snorts, turning to Shiro.

 

“I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing Zarkon’s ugly mug,” he says, and Shiro laughs, nodding.

 

“That, too,” he agrees, smiling at Lance.

 

Lance rocks back on his ankles, hands in his pockets. He bites his lip, considering the music.

 

“Hey, why don’t we,” Lance pauses, thinking of the look on his father’s face when he offered his hand to his mother for a dance, “why don’t we dance?”

 

Shiro ponders on it, scratching at his cheek, like he’s embarrassed. “I haven’t danced since the military ball at the Garrison.”

 

“The last time I danced was in the privacy of the training bathroom. It was very dramatic. Also,  the mice saw the whole thing and I’m _preeeetty_ sure there was laughter at my expense.”

 

Shiro laughs, open and bright. “They are kind of expressive for mice.”

 

“Whaddya say? Yes, or yes?” Lance asks, wiggling his shoulders slightly and holding his hand out, his heart hammering in his chest. “You can lead, if it’ll make you feel better!”

 

Shiro’s eyes fall to Lance’s open palm, then back up to his face, and his eyebrows turn up as he grins.

 

“Alright, alright— but if I step on your toes, I can’t promise you won’t need use of the healing pods,” Shiro declares, reaching out and clasping his hand with Lance’s. He brings his other hand to Lance’s ribs, splaying his hand there. Lance swallows, laying his hand on Shiro’s metal arm.

 

“It’s probably cold, sorry,” Shiro says, lowly, settling in closer as the previous song tapers off. Lance shakes his head.

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

“Okay,” he says, a gentle look on his face. The next song starts, a _Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons_ tune. Shiro sets them off around the room at a sedate pace, surprisingly confident despite his earlier nervousness.

 

They spin about, used to falling into sync from fighting together, forming Voltron, training constantly. Shiro watches their feet with intense concentration, like it _is_ a training simulation, which makes Lance burst into laughter. Shiro looks up, startled, and smiles sheepishly.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re thinking too hard. Dancing is supposed to be fun! Stop thinking,” Lance says, sidling in closer, and swaying them from side to side, and then falling away from Shiro, doing a complicated little number with his feet. He wrinkles his nose as he laughs, and he pulls Shiro back in. Shiro blinks at him, and then gives him a wry look, that says, ‘show off’.

 

It takes a few more moments of Shiro shaking the nerves off before he starts to get into it, really leading and pulling Lance along for the ride. From there, Lance doesn’t really know how long they dance. Song fades into song into something else, until they’re panting, sweat dripping down their skin, lindy hopping on a particularly fast song.

 

Shiro lifts his brows, like he’s surprised Lance knows _how_ to lindy hop, but laughs, loud and uninhibited when Lance wags his brows, mouthing some lyrics and meeting him step for step. Their hands meet and part, spinning around one another, unable to quell their smiles.

 

Shiro grabs him up close as the last upbeat song crescendos, spinning them, and Lance feels his feet leave the ground, laughing breathlessly with it. Shiro laughs, too, like he can’t help it, catching Lance up against him as they come out of the spin just a bit too fast.

 

They giggle as the song comes to a close, shifting into something slow and intimate.

 

Shiro sobers up first, bringing Lance to complete awareness. They’re pressed flush against one another, catching their breath, Lance angled against Shiro’s side, thighs framing Shiro’s leg. Shiro’s arm is around him, holding him tightly, his other hand grasping Lance’s. Their faces are close— Lance can see every detail of Shiro’s face, from his laugh lines, to the texture of the scar across his nose, and the dark of his lashes.

 

The song is sweet and somewhat melancholy, Sinatra crooning at them about love. Lance meets Shiro’s eyes hesitantly, suppressing a shiver at the intensity of Shiro’s gaze.

 

Shiro starts them back up into movement, but the song is sedate and they simply sway. The eye contact makes Lance feel like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin, so he drops his temple to the high of Shiro’s cheekbone, closing his eyes.

 

He remembers the look on his Mom’s face when they danced slow and intimate, how she curved herself subconsciously to her husband. Her eyes had been unable to look at anything but him, and Lance feels that compulsion now. He wants to wrap himself up in Shiro’s warmth, he wants to…

 

Shiro stops suddenly, but doesn’t let go.

 

“Lance,” he says, “what’s wrong?”

 

Lance is shaking now, he knows that. He opens his eyes and turns his face to Shiro’s, cataloguing everything he can, the shape of his face, the color of his lips, the particular color of his eyes. He wants to remember this feeling, this fleeting moment as vividly as he remembers hiding behind that chair, longing for a love someday.

 

Quiet and patient, Shiro watches him. His eyes are roving over Lance’s face too, concern etched into his features.

 

Lance pulls his hand away from Shiro’s, sliding it up Shiro’s neck until it rests at his jaw.

 

“Lance?” Shiro asks, and Lance surges forward, lips meeting lips.

 

Shiro seems like stone against him, frozen in shock, and Lance thought as much, but he lets the chaste kiss linger.

 

He steps back after a moment, eyes sweeping down to the floor so he doesn’t have to see the rejection on Shiro’s face. He’s only himself, after all.

 

Shiro’s arms leave him, and when Lance thinks he might have to leave to avoid further embarrassing himself, Shiro’s hands cradle his face, turning it back to him.

 

He’s not expecting the look on Shiro’s face. He’s never seen Shiro look that way before— eyebrows furrowed as if he’s in pain, nostrils flaring as he looks at him. His chest is heaving. Lance opens his mouth to say something, to apologize for hurting him, but he swallows the words when Shiro’s mouth catches his in return.

 

Lance’s heart just about leaves his body, stomach somersaulting as Shiro pulls him close, _really_ kissing him.

 

He makes a noise, he’s certain, when Shiro backs him into the control panel, parting Lance’s lips with his own and sweeping his tongue inside. He clutches at Shiro’s shoulders, spreads his thighs open to make room for him, eyes fluttering as he’s thoroughly, deeply kissed.

 

There’s no room for thoughts here, just the sensation thrumming through him, the touch of Shiro’s lips, the meshing of their tongues. Shiro’s mouth tastes salty-sweet from the sweat that no doubt trickled down his face to collect on the swell of his lips, and Lance licks into his mouth to taste him further.

 

“Lance,” Shiro murmurs into his skin when he drags his mouth to press kisses against the corner of his lips, setting Lance on fire and making him groan.

 

There’s been nothing even close to compare to this, and Lance doesn’t think there ever will be. Shiro kisses passionately, ardently. All Lance wants to do is welcome him in, sharing their breath and swallowing it back up as Shiro bites at Lance’s lips.

 

“Shiro,” Lance gasps when he can, and Shiro makes a questioning ‘mmm’ sound, but doesn’t stop. Lance doesn’t want him to.

 

They stay there, moving languidly, a little lost in one another until Shiro pulls back. Lance stares up at him in a daze.

 

Shiro starts to grin, wiping at his own lips with his thumb.

 

“So…,” he says, trying not to laugh, “was I meant to be _great_ at kissing?”

 

Lance lets out a breathless laugh.

 

“ _Oh_ yeah, I’d let you assemble _my--”_

 

“ _Lance,_ ” Shiro warns, but he’s laughing and leaning in for another kiss.

 

“What does this mean?” Lance asks, after he gives him one. He knows what _he_ wants it to mean, what he wants it to mean to Shiro.

 

“What do you want it to mean?” Shiro asks, helping Lance up from the control panel. He feels wobbly, like his knees still want to give out.  
  
  
Shiro is watching him earnestly, not putting any pressure on him or even hinting at what _he_ wants it to be.

 

“I think I want to kiss you a lot more,” Lance says slyly, “and I think that requires a pretty high relationship position. Like, your second in command.”

 

“Is that so?” Shiro asks, pulling him in.

 

“It is,” Lance replies, matter of fact.

 

“Okay,” Shiro says, and kisses him again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Y'all know what to do! If you enjoyed it, leave me a comment! They are so helpful for me!


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